Priestess Kaede's Hatred
by inuyashagirl
Summary: Twenty-three year old Kaede remembers her sister and her sister's death. She goes to see Inuyasha where he's been sealed. One Shot


Kaede sighed as she made her way along the narrow path. It was well worn by her countless trips through these woods. In the morning, in the hours just before sunrise, each day she gathered herbs for her medicines. Now that she was the priestess of the village, she had responsibilities. She had been the priestess since she was sixteen, and now seven years later, she was respected and trusted in villages all around.   
  
Kaede paused, eying the overgrown path splitting off from hers. It led to Inuyasha, the last demon in the area. The demons had left the region nearly twelve years ago, shortly after the sacred Shikon No Tama was burned along with Kikyo's body. Kaede's older sister, Kikyo had been an incredible priestess. The jewel was her duty to protect for three long years, and when she died, she chose to carry the duty with her into the next life.  
  
The path seemed to call to Kaede. She finally gave up fighting it and started on the small path. Soon, the path broke into a broad clearing around a single enormous tree of indeterminate age. It stretched upward, seeming proud and strong, and constant. Kaede shook her head, strands of black hair escaping from the hair tie at her neck, much like Kikyo's had done.  
  
Kaede had not shared in her sister's beauty, and even if she had, her face was forever marred by a wound she'd received as a child, depriving her of her right eye. Kaede had resigned herself to the fact that she would never marry or have children of her own. The proud line of priestesses that had yielded she and her sister would die with Kaede.  
  
Her steady gaze rested on the boy pinned to the tree. She tried to hate him, desperately she did, but she couldn't for some reason. Inuyasha. He was the reason Kikyo died, betraying her, mortally wounding her, then stealing the sacred jewel. Kaede frowned at him, but it was not an expression of hatred. It was one of sorrow and confusion. It never made any sense.  
  
When Inuyasha had been free, he terrorized villages, destroyed everything, all in an effort to prove that he was demon enough; all to prove that his half-human blood was strong enough. But then, he'd met Kikyo. The beautiful, lonely priestess, whose life was filled with caring for the sick and protecting the cursed jewel that had been passed into her care by the Demon Exterminators. Sometimes Kaede hated them, who would give such a responsibility to a fifteen-year-old girl? Fifteen. To protect such a thing at that age would be a task that no ordinary girl could have overcome. But then, Kaede reminded herself, Kikyo had never been an ordinary girl. She was powerful, and brave.  
  
But like all things good, Kikyo's life only lasted a short time. She died three years after taking the jewel into her care. She died because she loved him. She loved Inuyasha. Kaede once again tried to stir up some hatred against the boy, partially overgrown with vines. She couldn't. She still couldn't believe that he would have hurt Kikyo, the way he looked at her. It was like something that could last anything.  
  
Kikyo, in her heart, had still loved Inuyasha. She must have, because instead of using the power of the jewel to heal herself, she chose to die, rather than live without him. But then, maybe it was living with the betrayal, not living without him. Kaede didn't know. She didn't think she would ever know. Kikyo's seal would last forever. Inuyasha was dead, or as close to it as one can be, and he would never wake again.  
  
Kaede turned away, making her way back down the path. The sun had risen, and it rippled softly across her red skirt-pants, the mark of a priestess. The day was coming, and Kaede hadn't gathered any herbs. Oh well, it could wait until tomorrow. Kaede stepped back onto the well-worn path, sighing once more. In a few years, the path to Inuyasha's tree would be overgrown, and no one would disturb him further. No one would remember him, and no one would remember the priestess who had sealed him. 


End file.
